Misguided Affections
by Surreptitious Chi X
Summary: Before Wulfgar and Cattibrie get married Drizzt has sworn it his solemn duty to make sure that the person Wulfgar is in love with and the person he's about to marry are the same person.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, I am borrowing them, and I'm not trying to make money, only amuse a few people. The second part of this disclaimer is that this is an experiment, and not to be taken seriously. I wrote this for entertainment's sake when I was thinking about all the weird fandom romances that are out there already, and what kind of weird partnership I could add to the mixing pot.

Author's Note: Happens before Wulfgar is captured by Errtu.

* * *

Misguided Affection

"Hello, Wulfgar," Drizzt said. He was waiting outside of the door to Wulfgar's bedroom, his hands clasped behind his back.

Wulfgar retreated a step, back into the doorway, and looked down at his friend. He was somewhat distracted with thoughts of the wedding, which he was about to participate in planning and had been helping plan every day this week. "Well met," he said. He blinked. "What's going on? You don't usually stop in front of my door to say hello." Wulfgar thought. "You…_don't_ wait for me outside my bedroom door."

"I wish to speak to you alone," Drizzt said, taking Wulfgar's hand and leading him down a deserted passage of Mithril Hall, looking around with his mysterious lavender eyes. "It is important."

"But couldn't my room do?" Wulgar asked, looking back at it. He hadn't even had the opportunity to close the door.

Drizzt smiled at him. "That would be inappropriate."

Inappropriate? Wulfgar felt, not for the first time, and not for the last, confused. It tended to be a constant state of being for him. "Alright, if you say so."

Now they were alone, standing at a secluded corner where the drow ranger could keep track of foot traffic coming both ways, making sure they wouldn't be disturbed. The elf had a strange expression on his face. It was oddly intense, and thoughtful.

"What is it, Drizzt?" Wulfgar asked. The blonde barbarian shifted his weight from foot to foot uncertainly.

Drizzt smiled at him again. There seemed to be something meaningful about that smile. "I think it would be best for you to sort out the feelings in your heart before you rush headlong into a wedding," the drow said.

Wulfgar, startled, thought of his training with Drizzt, and the identical advice he'd been given about rushing headlong into battle. "But I have," the blonde barbarian stammered. He scratched his head, remembering only then that he hadn't worked out any of the tangles in his thick mane of hair. He was hardly vain, and didn't even think about his appearance most of the time. It drove Catti-brie somewhat crazy, actually. She kept shoving him in front of a mirror and trying to get him to see how disheveled he looked. I'm a barbarian, he thought piteously. What do you expect?

Drizzt shook his head, gently amused at the typical reply that Wulfgar always had when the ranger reminded him to think before he acted. "Wulfgar," he said, and in his voice was a reminder.

Wulfgar blushed.

The ranger looked up at him, his violet eyes shining. He moistened his bottom lip, and paused, as if he didn't know exactly what to say, or if he did, how Wulfgar was going to react. "You think you're in love with her, but you're really in love with me, aren't you?" he said.

The barbarian gaped at him, stammered inarticulately, and took a step back, his cheeks turning a ruddy shade of red. "_No_!" He took another step back, regarding Drizzt with alarm. "No! I don't!"

Drizzt took a step closer, smiling all the while. "He couldn't expect you to really be in love with his adopted daughter," the elf said. "He raised you as his son; it didn't matter that you were of two different families – he played father to you both. You grew up together; as siblings."

"Yes, of course," Wulfgar said, frowning and perplexed, because he surely couldn't dispute that. "Catti and I were always very good friends. That's why it seemed so perfect that we ought to…" He trailed off. At the same time, he realized that he'd said too much, and that Drizzt had a good point in that he couldn't think of Catti-brie as anything other than a good friend. His heart skipped a beat, and he panicked. "Not all marriages are built on love of the sexual nature," he said. "It's not important, anyway. She needs someone to protect her, and I've been doing a good job so far, so why isn't it a good thing that Bruenor trusts me to take care of her? We're both human, we both know each other, we like each other –"

"That must make it perfect in Bruenor's eyes," Drizzt said, and his expression was affectionately exasperated. "My people, though they are often ruthless and cruel, aren't so different than his people, or of your people, Wulfgar. No matter what decisions we make in life, we are still people. Segregation is for animals."

"No one cares about the color of your skin," Wulfgar stammered. "If you're saying that –"

"I know," Drizzt said, shaking his head, and holding up his hands reassuringly. "Don't say that, I know it already. However, the old ways are still prevalent in Bruenor's mind. A dwarf to a dwarf, a human to a human, an elf for an elf. He expects me never to get married simply because there is no one of my own race that I could safely be married off _to_."

The blonde barbarian's head was spinning. "Are you saying that I ought to marry you instead of her?" he asked. "Men don't even get married to each other. It doesn't work."

"Why not?" Drizzt asked.

That was unfair of him to say, because Wulfgar didn't know. He just had one of those feelings, and when he had a vague notion like that, he scowled, put his foot down, and never let anyone dissuade him. It was just the way it was, darnit. Wulfgar looked unhappy. "I don't know," he said. Then his trademark scowl appeared. He clenched his fists. "But that's the way it is."

The ranger patted Wulfgar on the arm. "I'm not suggesting that you run off and get married to me," Drizzt said. "All I ask is that you consider what I've said before you marry Catti-brie. You've already admitted to me that you can't love her the way a man loves a woman." His eyes were sincere. "Give her a chance, a chance to find someone else who can be there for her in an adult way. She shouldn't miss out on that."

The barbarian returned his look with a stubborn frown, but eventually he just looked at the floor and sighed. "Alright."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Slimeball

Wulfgar didn't know what to do, and so he brought his problems to the only other person he felt like he could talk to. His childhood friend, and current love, Catti-brie. He snuck furtively into her room, trying to make sure that no one saw them together and got the wrong idea. He'd already been warned by no less than fourteen different dwarves not to deflower the maiden before their ceremony. Apparently it was a common bit of mischief for dwarven grooms to perpetrate.

The girl was lying on her bed, happily polishing a short sword and making pleased noises at it. Her wavy, deep red hair flowed down her back and fell over one hip. She was dressed in tight fitting brown leather travel clothes, those being her favorite, which only accentuated her thin frame. Sometimes Wulfgar thought he would snap her like a toothpick.

She looked up as Wulfgar carefully closed the door behind him. When she saw him, she let out a squeal of delight, dropped the sword, and tackled him. "What've ye been up to today?" she said.

Wulfgar looked embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Not much," he said. "I slept in." In advance of any scolding, he said, "I was up late last night. Some of the men were congratulating me again, and we were singing songs about glory and battle until almost two in the morning. They were too happy to let me leave. I was trapped between Gorm Silvershield and Westin Maglock."

She pulled him towards the bed, grinning at him slyly, and he complied, walking to it and giving her the illusion of being able to move his large, muscular frame at will. They settled down on her feather mattress and snuggled together comfortably. She was raking her small fingers through his hair, and he threw an arm around her to support her while she leaned on him.

"Actually, Drizzt was waiting for me when I got up," Wulfgar said.

She nuzzled him. "Drizzt? What'd he want? He wanna go on another yeti hunt with ye? He prob'ly misses yeh of late, havin' been spendin' so much time with me and the weddin' plans."

"That's what I want to talk about," the blonde barbarian said, feeling himself blushing all over at the thought of it. "Drizzt said something very strange –"

The door came busting open, and an aged dwarf they both knew too well stood in the hallway looking in. "What're yeh two up to in there?" Bruenor asked, scowling suspiciously at them. Actually, his 'ask' was a normal man's 'bite your head off'.

Wulfgar hastily lifted his arm from the auburn-haired woman's waist and gave his surrogate father a wide-eyed look. "Nothing!"

Surprisingly, the dwarf chuckled once he saw the situation. "Relax, me boy," Bruenor said, smiling and shaking his head. "Just a man's old instincts after tryin' t' make suren his daughter's not bein' a fool." He turned around and started to walk off, not bothering to close the door, his boots clumping loudly against the stone floor. "I wouldna mind even if ye were doin' somethin'. Affer all, it ain't too early to be a grandpa." A huge grin split his craggy face, beaming out through his beard.

Wulfgar froze in an expression of sheer horror.

Instead of teasing him, Catti-brie paled, her mouth slightly open. "A mother?" she said, inadvertently shrieking. "At me age? Pa, ye can't be serious! I'd, I'd be ruined! A homemaker! Dwarven lords! That'd be awful!" She looked to Wulfgar for support. He nodded mutely, the expression of horror still vivid in his eyes. "Me gracious!" Catti said, throwing up her hands into the air. "Me Pa's gone mad!"

The blonde barbarian gingerly patted her on the shoulder. "It's alright."

"Ye lords! He wants me to 'ave children! Now!"

"I promise," Wulfgar said, patting her on the shoulder.

He inwardly cringed whenever she became violent like this. It usually meant she would break all her toys by throwing them against the walls. He may have been bigger than Cattie-brie when they were children, but she had the bigger temper. He was honestly afraid of her. She could hit the back of his head with her fist pretty hard sometimes. When he ventured to ask her not to do it anymore, because it hurt, her response had been, 'Aw, ye're a barbarian. You can take it.'

He sighed miserably. People said that she was pretty. Only when she wasn't like this. They didn't see her often enough. Prettiness was on the inside, he always thought, but everyone seemed so consumed about prettiness on the outside all the time. It was confusing and slightly alienating. Why did it matter what the decorations for the wedding were?

"I know," Catti-brie said, misinterpreting his sigh. "It suren do put a damper on things knowin' they're tryin' t' get us hitched jus' so he can have little grandkids scurryin' around 'is feet all day." She patted him on the thigh. "An' no offense, but the idea o' settling down somewhere someday always gave me the itch. Like I had to move to get outta someplace."

"Being married isn't the same as settling down," Wulfgar said.

Somehow it was disheartening to have everyone making marriage look like one series of unfortunate events after another. He took a stand now, protesting weakly on the principle of the thing. "There are married warriors all the time that travel together. Mercenaries. And rangers. You wouldn't have to stay in a house all day just because you were wearing my ring."

"An' live out in the wilderness?" Catti-brie asked, looking unhappy.

"You can't have it _both_ ways," he said. He felt awfully put upon. "You're being picky."

The fierce redhead pouted and crossed her arms. "You're not being picky enough! This is the rest o' our lives, we're talking about here!" She waved her hands around and cried, "It has to be perfect!"

"Why can't we wait for perfection later?" Wulfgar said. He looked at her plaintively. "Isn't it enough to get married?"

She scowled, and emotions chased themselves across her freckled face. Her blue eyes were hard with denial. She looked away, staring at a little figurine of a unicorn that Drizzt had begged Regis to make for her birthday. She kept it on the top of her dresser, in a little place of honor. After all, it was the nicest thing Drizzt had done for her. The drow didn't often know how to interact with her as a girl, and when he did something right, she lavishly rewarded him to try to cure the shy ranger of his skittishness around women.

She understood, she reflected, looking upon the scrimshaw statuette, that something in his culture made the women evil and mean, but she still wondered what could have hurt his heart so that he would shy away from everyone with a pair of boobs and a higher pitched voice.

"Ye said Drizzt said something strange," she said abruptly. She turned back to him, her bright blue eyes burning with curiosity. "Wha' did 'e do?"

Wulfgar felt his face heating up. He tried to nonchalantly scratch his chin. "He said two things," the barbarian said, after unsuccessfully trying to just spit it out.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Wulfgar said. The blonde barbarian tried again. "The first was that he thought I didn't love you." He held up a hand, stalling her. "He said he thought we were just friends, and we wouldn't be able to do anything else with each other. Then he said I loved him."

"He _what_?" Catti-brie shrieked. She glared at the unicorn statuette, innocently poised with its front hoof in the air and its mane in a gentle wind, and grabbed it. Drizzt _nice_? She threw the ornament across the room. That slimeball! The figurine broke into two pieces and fell to the floor.

Wulfgar stared at it. The unicorn's head was snapped off its body at the neck. He was thinking, There's proof everybody. You don't believe me, look at the dead unicorn. She breaks her toys.


	3. Chapter 3

It's Not Right, I Tell You

Drizzt was meditating in the middle of a convoluted path, sitting cross-legged with his back to them, his palms rested easily on his knees. He wore a gentle smile. The black figurine of his cat, Guen, was sitting beside him. The dark elf was dressed only in simple black leathers and skintight cotton. His feet were bare, his boots set aside. There was a beautiful view of the tundra, dotted with summer flowers, from where he sat on the precariously thin path that wound around the treacherous butte.

Three people loomed threateningly behind him at the mouth of the cave through which he had come in order to get to this vista. Or, rather, two people looming threateningly and one person, quite taller than the two in front, skulking meekly behind them and looking around for ways out. Of which there were none.

"See! I told you 'e was sick!" Catti-brie exclaimed, pointing at the ranger accusingly, her face pale with fury.

"Now, now, he's not sick, just confused," Bruenor soothed. "Don't blow things outta proportion."

Wulfgar shifted uneasily from foot to foot. "I don't really understand all this," he said. "Why did you tell Bruenor?"

"Because he's my father!" the redheaded woman yelled, swinging her fists in the air. "And 'e's your father, too! Why you didn't tell him is beyond me!"

The blonde barbarian cringed. "It didn't seem right."

Drizzt said calmly, effortlessly interjecting himself into their conversation, "Hello, my friends." He was still smiling, as if purposefully ignoring their loud words by turning it into the peaceful sound of butterfly wings with the power of his mind and finding his center and being at one with the great spirit of the universe.

Wulfgar wanted to tell him there was a possibility that he was about to be pushed off the narrow ledge where he sat and plummet to his doom. He bit his lip, remembering at the last moment that he was within Catti-brie's reach. He didn't want him head to be smacked.

"Now, tell me what you told the boy," Bruenor said, worried wrinkles creasing his brow. He was still trying to keep a lid on the situation. The dwarf added apologetically, "Sometimes he gets confused. I'll be bettin' my beard you didn' tell him what me daughter be claimin' you said."

Drizzt cocked his head slightly, showing polite interest. "What is it that she says that I told to Wulfgar when we were alone having a private conversation?"

Wulfgar blushed. He didn't even entirely know why. Except that Drizzt was talking like Catti-brie was making it up because she hadn't been there. Or that Wulfgar shouldn't have told anyone else, because it was private. "I told her," the blonde barbarian said. His voice came out indistinctly. He looked at the stone floor.

"Indeed?" Drizzt said, sounding faintly surprised, aroused to more interest than before. "What did she say at the question of whether or not she truly loved you?"

Catti-brie was only held back by a rage-clouded sense that the elf was her friend, and her father's palpable alarm. "You _slime_!" she yelled. "If I had me another unicorn, I'd smash _that _pretty little lying trinket on your feet too the same I did yer last one!"

"She broke your unicorn, Drizzt," Wulfgar said, woeful. "Its neck snapped off and one of the legs is broken. I saw it. She threw it against the wall."

The ranger looked more confused than anything else. "My unicorn?"

"Yer crummy _birthday_ present!" Catti-brie shrieked, waving her fists. She was turning red now.

"Unicorns don't grow on trees," Drizzt said, knitting his pale brows in a gentle protest. But then he looked off into the distance wonderingly. "And if they did, how would they get down?" He looked, unbelievably, as if he were going to wander off on that train of thought. He stroked the black panther statue absently.

Wulfgar thought he heard it purr. That surely couldn't be right. The blonde barbarian stared at it.

Bruenor drew an axe from his belt. "I'll be warning you, me friend," he said. His voice was heavy with paternal authority. "You'll be tellin' me what you told me son, or I'll be puttin' this axe through yer pretty hide."

"Oh, dear," Drizzt murmured. He, at last, looked just miserable enough to be grounded into the situation, and rested his chin on his fist. "All I meant for to happen was to have young Wulfgar here make sure that he really loved Catti-brie, and the other way around. They're both so young."

That comment, and concern, made Bruenor yield. He put away his axe again and nodded tiredly. "Aye," the dwarf said. "I know how ye feel."

"You're not going to let him get away with that," Catti-brie said, looking at him agape in feeble protest. "What about the other part?"

"What other part?" Drizzt asked. He frowned innocently.

She stammered. "The, the part where you said, he, he, you –" She pointed at them both back and forth, looking for support, but Wulfgar kept his face just as blank as Drizzt's. "Wha- ah… You're not going to make me say it, are you?" The redhead was flustered.

"Say what?" Drizzt said, looking at her.

"But he – " The girl blushed. "You – you –"

"Me me?" Drizzt said. "I don't recall ever saying that."

Catti-brie ran away, overwhelmed and confused, beginning to cry. Bruenor sulkily cursed and ran to catch up to her. "You stay here, boy," he said to Wulfgar. "She's mightily vexed with ye and don't wanna see ye right now, else I'd be sendin' _your_ hide after her."

"Well," Drizzt said, "It looks like it's just you and I." He put his palms together and smiled up at the skies as if it were a piece of good fortune that had just befallen them.

"You didn't do that on purpose, did you?" Wulfgar said. He frowned. "Make them unhappy."

"Of course not," the ranger said, making Wulfgar relax fractionally. "That couldn't be helped." Drizzt looked over his shoulder at the blonde barbarian with innocent purple eyes. He seemed vacant, which may have been the meditation, and worried. "I'm not inconveniencing _you_, am I?"

Wulfgar rubbed the back of head. It ached psychosomatically. "They think it's you that's the problem," he mumbled. "I didn't say I liked you or anything."

Drizzt's eyes became more innocent, widened to their full height of naivete. "Do you?"

"I don't know," Wulfgar said. He straightened, as if maintaining the truth of that statement.

"What about lust?" the elf said, propping his chin in his hand and gazing up at Wulfgar unabashedly, as if he'd just asked whether it was cloudy or sunny today.

The barbarian took a couple steps back and had the sudden urge to see if Catti-brie was alright. "You don't understand," Wulfgar said. He frowned at Drizzt for not understanding even after being on the Surface so long. "Men liking men that way is wrong."

"Who says?" Drizzt asked.

The barbarian grit his teeth, reddening. "I don't know," he said. The ranger _always_ wanted to know who said.

"Then how can you find out whether they're right or wrong?" Drizzt asked, looking around as if he might find the mysterious purveyor of knowledge under a pebble or around a bend on the ledge of the path. "They might be spreading lies. Such things are common in my homeland." He frowned as if such things being common in his homeland distressed him. He shook his head sadly. "No one knows the morals of what they are doing because so many figures of authority conflict," he said. "It is a very sad state down there. Many do horrible things and neither realize it nor repent their ways."

Wulfgar shifted uncomfortably. He didn't understand how the conversation had veered off, but he felt that the ranger was asking him whether or not he wanted to be like the Drow, when he knew that everyone on the Surface thought of them as bloodthirsty killers who were completely psychotic. That was unfair, and the barbarian scowled. "It's not right, I tell you," he said stubbornly, sticking to the subject at hand.

Drizzt sighed. "Alright. But if you change your mind, then come see me." He turned around and began to meditate again. He closed his eyes, frowning, and Wulfgar thought he could see a hint of anger there. The barbarian felt oddly hurt.

What do you want me to do? Wulfgar thought. They all parted and made him the enemy in the middle. Drizzt, Catti, Bruenor… It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. And he couldn't do anything about it. For the first time since his parents died, he wanted to cry.

Catti-brie might not have such a bad idea, he thought darkly, and ran single-mindedly back through the cave to find a place to be alone for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Fight

-------------------------

After spending a few hours alone in a nook of the caves, he reluctantly went home, thinking mournfully of the way that everyone seemed to be mad at him. His father and Catti were silent over dinner, and they refused to meet his eyes. The clamor of the other dwarves contrasted strongly with this silence. Wulfgar felt it was inordinately cruel. He hadn't, after all, done anything wrong.

He followed Catti-brie down the hallways to her room persistently, until she was forced to slow down and wait for him to catch up. She scowled at him petulantly.

"Catti…" Wulfgar said. "I want to apologize."

"Fer what? Fer makin' me look like a fool? Fer hurtin' me feelings and makin' me feel as though I were doin' you some sort'a mysterious wrong by loving you? Or fer abandoning me and refusing to take me side when Drizzt were mocking me this afternoon, claimin' he had no idea why you were all stirred up 'n reluctant with me?" She crossed her arms. "I'm thinkin' those all require separate apologies. What'll you start with, Wulfgar?"

"Look," he said, feeling oddly annoyed by her speech, "I didn't do any of those things! There's no need to take that tone with me, Cat. I'm innocent."

"Then what're you stoppin' me for?" the auburn-haired woman growled. "I'm thinkin' I wanna get an early night's sleep." She tensed.

"I…don't think we should see other anymore," Wulfgar stammered. "So often. I mean."

"Ye're scared to be married," Catti-brie accused with a sneer, holding her head high, hands on hips, a picture of womanly rage.

"Am not!" Wulfgar protested. "I never heard of such a thing! I thought people were always happy to get married! That's how they sound in all those storybooks." He reddened when he realized that the only stories he'd ever read were when he was about eight, and his entire worldview on marriage was shaped by a picture book. He felt very small for a nearly seven foot tall barbarian. There were times he felt that Catti-brie was purposefully making fun of him. Like now.

"Man!" the auburn-haired girl scoffed. "Ye're more like a mouse! Afraid to be alone in the same room wif me!"

She _is_ making fun of me, Wulfgar realized. He stared at her silently, feeling numb.

She glared into his blue eyes and sensed that she was not going to be able to start a fight, as she had intended, so she let out a howl of rage and kicked him in the shin, then spun away and crossed her arms.

Maybe Drizzt is right, Wulfgar thought. Maybe we're doomed. Maybe I should go to him and admit defeat. I _can't_ love her. How can I love someone who's always hurting me? "Catti-brie," he said, and stopped.

"_What_?"

The blonde barbarian wavered, then stiffened, steeling himself, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't do that anymore."

"Why not?" Catti-brie turned to look over her shoulder at him, eyes flashing. "Is the great Wulfgar going to punish me? Is 'e a wife beater now? C'mon, _barbarian_." She whirled on him and shoved his chest.

Caught off guard more than anything else, Wulfgar stumbled back, and he raised a bewildered fist, stunned into ire.

She jabbed a finger at him. "Ye're a bully now, are ye? Go ahead, hit me! Just you try, Wulfgar! You're bigger'n me! Black me eye!" The auburn-haired woman yelled, "You were never brave enough to pick on me! Son of a dwarf, pah! Son of a _lily-liver_!"

"Don't insult my parents!" Wulfgar said, dropping his fist and trying to stop his eyes from watering at the sting of her words. They _never_ mentioned each other's parents.

"Why not?" Catti-brie yelled. "They're dead, ain't they?" She took a step towards him, muscles tensed and standing out on her arms.

"They died with honor," Wulfgar said. "Tempus said so!"

"Did he now?" she said. "Did e' come down from 'is realm and start talking to you, o brave warrior?"

"Stop it!" Wulfgar yelled. He ran away, startled and agonized by a pain in his chest, fleeing before she could start a battle that involved more than words, the battle she demanded of him by insulting his parents. He didn't want to hurt her. He never had. She was always the one picking on him and making him feel less than she was.

"Ye're no _man_!" she shrieked after him. "Ye're a _coward_! You don't want to commit to me!"

Regis rounded the corner of the hallway, wincing. "Did you have to yell like that?" he asked. "Why are you being so hard on him, anyway?"

"Oh, you don't know anything!" Catti-brie said, starting to cry without noticing it in her anger. "You think you're so appraised o' the situation around here, but I wanna tell _you _something, you're just old Rumblebelly!" She turned on him, too, and ran to her room, pouting.

Regis was a lot faster than he appeared, and he easily trailed her, but she shut the door in his face. He composed a serious face and immediately knocked on it. "Catti-brie, let me in. You're not thinking clearly, and I want to talk to you."

She hesitantly opened the door after making him wait for five minutes.

"Da, I need to talk to Drizzt," Wulfgar said, hovering hesitantly over his father's shoulder as Bruenor patiently polished an antique battle axe.

"So talk to'm."

"Da…I don't know where he is."

The dwarf king grunted. "Ye know how to find 'im just as well as anyone else, boy."

"But…"

Bruenor polished the axe in silence for a few moments before he replied. "You're not here because you need me to find Drizzt for yeh. Ye're here because you want me approval, boy."

Wulfgar stopped and thought about that. He felt heavy with misery. "You're right."

"Well, I ain't gonna give it." Bruenor went back to polishing the relic. "And I ain't gonna give it to yuh for one good reason."

Wulfgar waited.

"Ye're a grown man now, son, and yer decisions are yer decisions. You ain't got no right to be askin' an old man to decide for yeh." Bruenor turned wise eyes on his adopted son. "Whatever yer decisions are, ye gotta stick with 'em, understand: No matter how difficult they may be." He waved a scolding index finger. "Unless you think it's the wrong decision. And then you better not make it. Understand? Fix yer mistakes and stand by yer goals, cuz' that's the only way to get victory. Understand?"

"Yes, Da," Wulfgar said softly. "Thank you for sticking by me." He quietly left the room and went to go see Drizzt.

The dark elf was in his room, apparently having decided that, like Catti-brie, he wanted to go to bed early. Wulfgar stubbornly pushed Catti-brie out of his head as he opened the door, though. He knew it wouldn't be locked. For whatever reason, his ranger friend never locked the door. Wulfgar hadn't thought it polite to ask why, but he wondered if it was some cultural thing left over from Drizzt's childhood in the Underdark. But he'd heard drow were cruel. If that was so, he thought that if he were in Drizzt's position, he might want to lock the door all the time to keep people from getting in.

The barbarian peered inside hesitantly, unsure of whether or not he should disturb the elf while Drizzt was unaware of his presence. All the lights were out in the room except for a solitary candle on the dark elf's writing desk.

Drizzt was lying in bed, a fur blanket covering his body up to his upper chest. From the position he lay, his tangled white hair didn't disguise the fact that he was wearing no shirt, and Wulfgar thought it unlikely that the ranger had any clothing on at all. That thought made him nervous.

"Drizzt?" Wulfgar asked.

The dark-skinned figure didn't stir, but Drizzt's voice called back softly. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Wulfgar said, moving into the room and shutting the door behind him. "I mean…Yes." The way Drizzt spoke reassured him that Drizzt had invited him in, but he still felt like an intruder somehow. "Catti-brie didn't like me when I told her I didn't want to get married yet." The blonde barbarian paused. "I don't think there is going to be a wedding." This admission to the elven ranger should have surprised him, but all he felt was empty and cold. "I think she hates me. I think she tried to get me to do something that would give her an excuse not to marry me anymore. She insulted my parents."

"Why are you laying your troubles at my doorstep?" Drizzt asked, slowly sitting up, long hair cascading down his back and away from his face. From another mouth, those words would have been cruel. Curiosity and concern was all that was in Drizzt's voice. "This afternoon, you seemed to never want to see me again, and I can't blame you, for Bruenor and Catti-brie certainly seemed angry with me, and angered by your involvement with me."

"I didn't," Wulfgar said. He clarified, "Ever want to see you again." There was a pause, wherein he felt guilty for saying that. He'd only hurt everybody's feelings recently. Even Drizzt's, now, this afternoon. "I didn't stay that way."

"No?" Drizzt tilted his head. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his arms, folding them behind his head. The fur blanket started to fall away from his torso, revealing his bare arms and legs. They gleamed faintly in the light of the lone candle across the room. Either Drizzt was wearing nothing but underwear, or he wasn't wearing anything at all.

Wulfgar felt skittish again, and bit his lip to keep from saying something stupid. He lowered his eyes. "I don't know why I'm here."

"You are here because I can offer you something Catti-brie can't," Drizzt said, and his expression was the frown he wore when he was reasoning things out. "I listen and don't get angry. Catti-brie loses her temper, because she is very young and female."

"I guess so," Wulfgar said. He wasn't sure what else to say.

He suddenly felt keenly the ridiculousness of the situation. He, a big, brawny human with stubble all over his face, long, unruly blonde hair, and a large, thick, particularly masculine nose, was in the same room as a small, petite elf with coal-black skin and features so soft and refined that he could be mistaken for a female, and he was the one asking the androgynous elf for help.

He felt betrayed by all the stereotypes that had ever been placed on his shoulders. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It wasn't _real_. He was just a _person_. Like any other person. He didn't have to be so much stronger, more stoic, and more courageous than anyone else. He was just Wulfgar. Not some god, like Tempus, who never made mistakes and could never be defeated.

"Come here," Drizzt said, his voice wavering. It wasn't a demand, only a request.

Wulfgar obediently came to him, and when he motioned, sat down beside him on the bed. "You're not going to rape me or anything, are you?" he asked. He made a puzzled and somewhat uneasy frown.

Drizzt looked shocked. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know." Wulfgar looked at the floor. "Sometimes it happens. In situations. Like the village girls. I heard that Mari got raped. And she didn't tell anybody. But she told me. And she said that he held her down after she came to his bed to talk to him. So I wondered if you were going to rape me. Because if you were, I was going to get away. Because that's a bad thing to have happen. Mari's gone now because she couldn't stand living with her family anymore." He paused. "I just thought I would tell you that."

The ranger patted his arm, just as if the elf understood what he was really trying to say. Wulfgar wondered if he did.

"She was fifteen," Wulfgar said. "I was twelve. I didn't do anything. But she was the only one I trusted. She's not doing so good now. I don't know because I haven't seen her but that's what Jarkel the healer said. He visited her. A while ago."

"You were thinking about her because now your relationship with Catti-brie is not well, and you were wondering if you should see her and marry her instead," Drizzt said.

Wulfgar numbly nodded. He hadn't thought about what he was thinking, but once Drizzt said that, he realized that Drizzt was right. "She wouldn't like that, would she?"

The elven ranger shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I think she wants her privacy."

"I think so too," Wulfgar said. His curiosity peaked. "Why do you know that?"

"I've been raped," Drizzt said. He paused, and bit his lip. "Or should I say, almost raped. But I saw other people I knew get raped, and it saddened me. I felt as though it were happening to me when I saw it happen." A tiny tremor passed through his body almost undetectably. "I didn't think I would like to see anyone in a carnal fashion ever again."

"Is that why you don't close your door?" Wulfgar asked.

Drizzt looked at him curiously.

"You never close your door," Wulfgar said.

"I never thought about it." Drizzt looked at the floor silently for a few moments, seeming deep in contemplation. "Perhaps I should write about that in my journal. It might make me feel better."

"I've never seen your journal," Wulfgar said. "Not what's inside."

"It's private." Drizzt smiled a little, but he was quite serious, and it was a gentle warning at Wulfgar never to look. "I write it for myself. A kind of dialogue with my own mind. I think it helps."

"That's interesting," Wulfgar said. The barbarian didn't know what to say. He realized they'd gotten on track of a very sad subject somehow, and he didn't know how to change the subject without hurting Drizzt's feelings. "I don't write in a journal."

"I know," Drizzt said. He smiled more genuinely, and looked up at Wulfgar's face affectionately. "I think you should."

"I don't want to," the barbarian mumbled, rubbing his arm self-consciously.

"Alright," Drizzt said. He slipped his arms around Wulfgar and shyly hugged him, without much force.

Wulfgar snuggled into his friend's embrace without thinking. He hadn't realized how much he had really just needed someone to put their arms around him and tell him it was okay. At that, the last vestiges of his denial cracked, and tears quickly dropped from his eyes and disappeared into his blue tunic. "Why does she hate me so much?" he asked, choking back a cry of despair. "Why does she think I have to be like her? She thinks I'm not a good barbarian, not a good dwarf, and she is." He felt tears sting his cheeks. His face was flushed with embarrassment and being this way.

"There, there," Drizzt said, his voice soft. He slowly reclined, clinging to the barbarian as he did so. "Lie down, and rest. It will make you feel better. If you like, you may stay here tonight. You shouldn't be alone with feelings like that. It will hurt you."

Wulfgar obediently lay down, and then guiltily kicked off his heavy leather boots, realizing too late that Drizzt was offering him the elf's bed, and he was going to make a mess of it in his sweaty, dirt-soiled clothing left over from running through caves to clear his head. "Should I… get undressed? I don't want to ruin your bed."

The elf ranger laughed. "You may undress if you wish to." There was a twinkle in his violet eyes that was almost coquettish, and he smiled as if he thought Wulfgar was being coy.

"I just don't want to get your covers dirty," Wulfgar mumbled defensively, taking off his shirt. He scowled at Drizzt reproachfully. "I'm not trying to make any moves on you. You're crazy. I don't know why you started all this to begin with."

"Because I knew that your romance with Catti-brie would dissolve the moment that someone put up a challenge," Drizzt said. He looked at Wulfgar as though it surprised him that the barbarian hadn't figured it out yet. "I didn't want it to happen after you got married and I had to see your entire _life _collapse around you."

"You deliberately sabotaged my marriage to make sure you didn't have to go without me?" Wulfgar looked at him incredulously.

"What?" Drizzt looked innocent. "I'm not in love with you. You're the one that's in love with me. I've been trying to tell you that all along. It's not the same thing." He turned over and pretended to go to sleep, a trick he often played on Guen.

"That's not fair!" Wulfgar protested. "You have to be in love with me! Why would you do this to me, otherwise? I've been through one of the nine hells recently! And you dragged me through another, just to prove a point? I don't get it! I don't think that's remotely possible!"

"If you wish," Drizzt said. He smiled angelically. "But you don't think I'm in love with you, either."

"Why not?" Wulfgar asked, scowling stubbornly.

"If you really thought that, you wouldn't endanger yourself by being here right now," Drizzt said. "You made it clear before that you don't want anything to do with me that way. So why be in my bed all night if you don't trust me to keep my hands to myself?"

"I don't know," the barbarian said, flustered. "You ask too many hard questions."

"Someone has to," Drizzt said, beaming and hugging him again. "Someone without a motive."

"But you have one," Wulfgar said, looking petulant. "You're in love with me."

"Just because you say so doesn't make it so," Drizzt said.

"Yes it does," the barbarian said sulkily. "I'm right, even if I can't prove how."

The dark elf ranger looked amused. "Goodnight, my friend."

Wulfgar protested, "We're not done talking yet."

"Why?" Drizzt's eyes were openly laughing at him now. "Because you say so?"

"…Yes." Wulfgar turned over and faced away from his friend. "Good night."

"Good night, Wulfgar."

"I still think I'm right." There was a pause. "I'm right."

"I think I'm going to sic Guen on you if you don't be quiet," Drizzt said affectionately. "I'm tired." He somehow managed to make the candle blow out all the way across the room. Wulfgar wondered if it had anything to do with Drizzt's meditation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

--------------------------------

Regis waved an admonishing index finger at her. "You are the one that needs to apologize," he said. The halfling's cherubic face was dismayed at her. "Look at yourself! You're being a cruel, irrational harpy at him!"

"I won't apologize," Catti-brie said, crossing her arms.

Regis spread his hands pleadingly. "Cattie-brie, you hurt him. Don't you think he needs to hear that you still care about him?"

"He knows I care!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Regis winced. "Ye're not listening, Rumblebelly!"

"First of all," he said, "I particularly dislike that name, and I keep trying to get Bruenor to make people stop calling me that." He briefly scowled. "I am not so useless that my nickname has to refer to my stomach."

Catti-brie shrugged uncomfortably.

In the silence, he sternly frowned at her. "And another thing. You charm your way around Bruenor all the time, but how often does Wulfgar do it?" Regis answered the question himself, voice rising indignantly. "Never! That's how many times he's deceived Bruenor to escape punishment: never not once!" He waved a scolding finger again. "Do you know how hard it is to bear the brunt of Bruenor's disapproval? You've been blaming Wulfgar for the bulk of your problems since the day you two were children. It's about time you gave yourself some responsibility for your actions!"

The auburn-haired woman stuttered an incoherent, mumbling reply.

Regis exhaled in righteous vindication. "Bruenor never gave you this talk, and he never would. Well, I did, and I'll do it again if I hear you're starting fights with Wulfgar. He's not just your brother now, he's your husband to be. It's not the same thing. If you can't treat him with respect, you shouldn't be getting married to him."

Catti-brie looked at him in horror. It was as if she were being slapped in the face by the same thing and everyone was saying it. She shouldn't be marrying Wulfgar. Tears started to slip down her cheeks. No… "It can't be happening," she said aloud.

Regis' expression minimally softened, and he took her in his arms. "You need to consider your motives. Are you getting married just so that you can't be called an old maid, or are you getting married because you want to spend the rest of your life with Wulfgar, day in and day out?"

Catti-brie scowled defensively. "Married couples don't spend every waking moment with each other. He'll have his life, and I'll have mine." A startled, mildly disgusted expression appeared on her face at the thought of having to drag along Wulfgar everywhere she went. She stopped, stunned, when she realized that. "Oh, gods," she whispered. "What've I done?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wulfgar woke up alone. He opened his eyes, startled and disoriented, to find himself in an unfamiliar bed, shirtless and tangled in a fur blanket. He realized with a jolt that he was in Drizzt's room. The first thing he did was turn the bed upside down searching for the slim elf out of some irrational fear that he had rolled over and smothered his friend in the night.

Then he heard laughter and looked down at the floor. Drizzt was pinned underneath Guenhwyvar, trying in vain to get up. "I was almost winning!" the ranger protested. "I want to wrestle again!"

The panther purred at him smugly.

"I…" Wulfgar didn't know how to begin. He scratched his head, noting all the tangles in his long, blonde hair. "I'm sorry I stole your bed."

Drizzt looked up at him, still laughing. "Don't be! I got up long before you were snoring your loudest."

The barbarian mumbled something embarrassed and unintelligible. One other thing Catti-brie bothered him about; she said he snored too loudly for her to sleep in the same bed with him.

"I've been up since dawn," Drizzt said, oblivious to Wulfgar's trail of thought. "I like to watch it."

"Why don't you ever act tired, then?" Wulfgar asked.

The ranger beamed. "Elves only need four hours of sleep. I can be up and about before everyone else, and stay up later." He said in a sing-song voice, "Being an elf is better than anything else in the world even if I am Drow." He seemed innocently smug about this.

Guenhwyvar put him in his place by swatting his face with an enormous paw and then starting to lick his long, white hair into enormous cowlicks.

"Noooooo." He slumped miserably, face down on the floor. "Guuuuen. Now I have to take a bath! I didn't want to do that until tomorrow!"

"I'll take a bath," Wulfgar said. He straightened, and then stretched his arms over his head. "Maybe together it won't be so bad."

"Are you going to seduce me?" Wulfgar couldn't see Drizzt's face, but his tone was coy, the words arch.

The barbarian stared, disgruntled, and crossed his arms. "It's just a bath."

--------------------------

The elf ranger held a bundle of fresh clothing and a fluffy cotton towel retrieved from one of his dresser drawers. Drizzt led Wulfgar down a long stone hallway, hair still sticking up at odd angles. "This is my favorite place for a bath," the elf said, seeming to have completely forgotten or smoothed over their previous conversation. "I like to bathe alone when I can. Dwarves tend to be noisy even when they're bathing, and they shake themselves dry."

"I know," Wulfgar said. He bit his lip to keep from laughing at the memory of taking a bath with his father and his father's dwarf friends when he was little. The barbarian shook his head. "I don't get it either." He'd stopped by his own rooms for a fresh change of clothing, but neglected to bring a towel. He figured he'd use Drizzt's after Drizzt was done with it. Why would two people need different towels if they were bathing together, anyway?

The bath house was actually a pool of steaming water with sharp sides cut into the stone, a perfect square. Being dwarves, not only was it not regulated with cold water, but there was only one step down before it was a plunge into about four feet of bubbling water. There were about four of these rooms that Wulfgar knew of, and one that was a series of connected hot springs in rooms that all led into each other, complete with towels and benches and a sparring arena. That one was the public bath house frequented by almost everyone, including his father, Bruenor.

The moment that Wulfgar walked into the room, he was hit in the face by a wall of steam. "It's warm," he said, and smiled ruefully.

The elven ranger cheerfully dropped his bundle of clothing and towel on the floor, then ran on bare feet across the room with a wild cry and dove into the spring with an enormous splash.

Wulfgar recoiled. "Are you okay?"

"It buuuuurns." Drizzt bobbed to the surface with those rapturously spoken words and effortlessly floated on his back the way that Wulfgar would have thought was impossible for skinny person.

"Okay…" The barbarian laughed awkwardly, and then stripped his rumpled breeches off. He hesitated.

Drizzt stared at him with big lavender eyes.

Wulfgar scowled.

Drizzt widened his eyes further. "What is the matter? Why don't you come in?"

'You're ogling me', Wulfgar considered saying, but he knew that Drizzt would just deny it. The elven ranger had the same look Wulfgar saw on the village boys' faces when Anna, one of the local girls, finally filled out on top and turned out to need special brassieres to keep her back from being hurt. Grumbling, the barbarian crossed the room and walked into the bubbling water. "You're in love me."

The elf rolled his eyes piteously. "Not _this_ again." He made a comical face of despair. "I said yesterday that I did it just to make sure you and Catti-brie didn't wreck each other, and I meant it. You're my two dearest friends, and you don't deserve to be married to each other. It was a terrible match, and I knew it. I had to put a stop to it."

"Had to, or felt like it?" Wulfgar asked, scowling accusingly at his friend.

"I felt like it, but I had to," Drizzt said, ducking underwater and wetting his hair again before combing an ebony hand through it. "It was my duty."

"To Mielikki?" Wulfgar looked at him skeptically.

"To myself." Drizzt put a hand on his bare chest and looked back at Wulfgar innocently, a solemn pout on his face. "I had to stop it before it got out of control."

"So you're the judge of everyone around you," Wulfgar said, glaring.

"If I see what's wrong, I fix it," the ranger said, shrugging, his lavender eyes hard. He tossed his head defiantly. "Anyway, I know you. I know you are in love with me, and I could not in good conscience let you be untrue to yourself by marrying a woman who is like your own _sister_!"

"I'm not in love with you!" Wulfgar yelled. "Stop saying that!"

Drizzt's gaze sharpened, and he crossed his arms. For that moment, at least, he looked dangerous, over-youthful face, slender frame, and all. "I will not stop saying it because you tell me to. It is true, and if you start facing your own feelings, I won't have to say it anymore."

"I won't," Wulfgar said quietly. The barbarian stared at him at a loss for a moment. "I cannot. I am not in love with you."

"I think you are," Drizzt said.

Wulfgar slammed his fist into the water in frustration, splashing himself and Drizzt in the process. "Stop it." His quiet voice contained desperation and bewildered anger. "I don't care about you. I care about Catti-brie. You are only trying to make me doubt myself so that I fall for you when you try to manipulate me into doing something wrong. Men doing that to men is wrong. It's wrong, and I don't care what you say. Men with men is _wrong_."

Drizzt heaved a weight-filled sigh. "I am not trying to make you doubt yourself. I am trying to make you see that you've worshipped the ground I stepped on since day one of our training together, and you haven't changed. You won't talk to me like I'm an equal, you persist in putting me on a pedestal, and it's not healthy unless you decide to start _acting_ on your infatuation."

"I can't believe you can claim that to me with a straight face," Wulfgar said.

He stopped caring about all tact, about everything various people in his childhood like his father and all the nursery nannies from nearby villages who took care of him taught him about being kind to others and never hurting their feelings. He said what was in the darkest recesses of his mind, and he said it as bluntly as possible without thinking about how to say it nicer. He was too angered by everything. "I don't worship you. I don't even care about your opinions."

But the words he said sounded like lies when he let them come out of his mouth. It was like he could taste the lies on his tongue. His face burned. The barbarian was consumed by a sense of sudden guilt at remembering every time he had changed to accommodate Drizzt's slightest comment. Every time the ranger told him to hold his weapon differently, stand differently, bend lower, react quicker, drink more water, pay more attention, practice more, sleep less, go to sleep earlier, eat less of one thing and more of another, Wulfgar did it. He even changed the way he used his fork at the dining table according to Drizzt's disapproving comment about the way he held it in his fist.

And through all the recollections accusing him, Drizzt just stared at him coldly, waiting for him to apologize and admit his mistake. But instead, he was thinking of how Catti-brie had been his friend, his sister, almost since he could remember. He had been her sidekick. When she told him what to do, he resentfully ignored her and grudgingly did it long enough for her to be satisfied and he could go back to his own devices.

He compared those two relationships. He concluded that he had never really gotten along with Catti-brie. He had just pretended to for so long that it made a fake peace between them. He'd pretended for so long that he almost believed it. He'd almost believed that her plan to get married to him had been because she cared about him that way, and he ought to be grateful that someone he knew so well loved him so much. Wulfgar slowly shook his head. _I should have known. She only cares about herself. That's the way she's always been. _

"Drizzt…" Wulfgar looked at the small dark elf longingly and waded towards him.

Drizzt held him, cradling the much larger man without complaint, even though the water was up to the dark elf's shoulders, and he was sweating from the heat. "I want to help you," the ranger said, "I do, but I don't know how. I can't hold a long relationship with someone without destroying it. I don't know that you've noticed, but I already tried my own hand at courting Catti-brie. I failed. Miserably."

"You courted her?" Wulfgar said. "When?"

Drizzt sighed and looked slightly irritable. "Do you see what I mean? I failed so badly that no one even knew what I was doing. I couldn't hold on a conversation with her, much less woo her like some Waterhavian nobleman with ten hats and three houses." He looked down at the water without really seeing anything. "I'm defective. I just can't. I wanted you to admit how you felt, but I didn't know what to do next, or even if I could take you up on an offer even if you made it, and even if I wanted to."

Wulfgar clung to him. Drizzt's tiny body in his arms seemed vulnerable, somehow, even with all its finely chiseled muscles, and the barbarian wanted to lash out at whatever threatened it. He stopped and frowned, frustrated. Ideas threatened Drizzt. He couldn't fight ideas, and he couldn't fight Drizzt's own feelings of inadequacy. The barbarian growled. "I am going to show you how to do it, then." Wulfgar clenched his jaw stubbornly. "You can learn how to have a relationship. I have practice now that you don't. I can do it for the both of us."

"Wulfgar…" Drizzt looked uncomfortable. "I c-can't." It seemed to genuinely pain him that he had to admit to not knowing how to do something. "I am broken. I didn't have good role models. Destruction and degradation was all around me when I was growing up. I can't even imagine what a real relationship between two willing people is like. I'm not good enough. I can't do it. I can't do something that might lead to my own destruction. I can't do something that might lead to my ruination of another person. I can't do what I saw acted out in front of me." He seemed to pale, panic-stricken. He couldn't stop _saying_ things like that. That he didn't know how. He was irrationally afraid that he was going to hurt Wulfgar, that it would be his fault, that everyone would exile him from Mithral Hall, that all his friends would turn against him.

"You're right all along," Wulfgar said, impulsively running a hand through Drizzt's white hair. Catti-brie always said she liked it when he did that. He wondered if it would work on Drizzt. "I am in love with you." He looked at the dark elf ranger earnestly. "I can do it. People in love can do anything." He heard it said all the time, wasn't it true? Why would everyone be lying?

The ranger crushed himself up against Wulfgar's bare chest, squeezing his eyes shut at Wulfgar's touch and trying to block the panic voices out of his head. They were saying that he would go berserk one day and kill Wulfgar in his sleep. They said that getting close to another person, this close to another person, would bring out the Hunter. That getting attached was dangerous. That the only people he ever got attached to died. Even Bruenor almost died. Wulfgar was next. He'd die and Drizzt would never get to see him again because he would go to a layer of hell. Or the Demonweb Pits. Because no matter how much he prayed to Mielikki, he was still evil. He could feel it. Evil coiled inside of him always trying to fight its way out so it could make him murder everyone. He instinctively started using his meditation techniques.

In moments, he was calm enough to open his eyes and look directly up at his friend. "I love you," Drizzt said softly. His body was devoid of emotion, pushed back to the safe places by his meditation center. He was numb, and it felt good. "I want to be with you, too." The dark elf smiled mischievously and ducked underneath the water, swimming away and popping up a couple feet away. "But first I want to finish my bath."

Wulfgar grinned back and ducked his own head, then surfaced and shook his hair out to rid it of excess moisture. "I can appreciate that." Then he splashed Drizzt and let out a roar of laughter.

The ranger stared at him in bewilderment, and then grinned madly. "I can win this battle." He dove underwater and then burst up and out with such force that it sent a rolling wave of water reaching up to Wulfgar's shoulders across the bathing pool.

They attacked each other with the enthusiasm and gusto of emotions long piled up and finally released through a safe valve. Wulfgar felt okay for the first time in weeks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

-----------------------

Later, when they were both sparkling clean, dried off from their bath and their amusements in the pool, dressed in fresh clothes, they went to breakfast. Wulfgar and Drizzt were both talking and laughing, arms linked in what Drizzt insisted be an open gesture of their intentions. The ranger's self-assurance about announcing their courtship kept Wulfgar from being nervous. For all that the barbarian had made assertions that he was the one with experience, it was Drizzt who seemed the calm and confident one.

When they entered the banquet hall, Wulfgar instinctively froze at the sudden silence of everyone around the table. Catti-brie was staring at him. There was the scraping noise of wood against stone as people pushed out their chairs to stand. Catti-brie hadn't stopped staring. Wulfgar felt numb, as if it was really a nightmare and he hadn't woken up at all today. He felt their eyes all boring into him, seeing him for what he really was. _It was wrong. I was right. It was wrong to do what I did in the bathhouse. _His mouth went dry.

"Y…Ye go out and do this…" Catti-brie said, her voice small but echoing throughout the silent room, "…the same day ye broke off our wedding arrangements?" Her voice was frail, and Wulfgar suddenly feared that she might faint.

The blonde barbarian cringed. How could he not have thought of that? It looked callous, it looked like he was being cruel, when really she had – She had… He froze in terror more profound than any other emotion he had ever experienced in her life. What had she done? What had she done to deserve this? They had gotten into a silly argument, it was just a silly little argument, they could have resolved it. They could have talked. It would have been alright in the end, everything was always alright in the end, wasn't it? "Oh, no." He hid his face in his hands. "What have I done?"

Drizzt wrapped his arms around his large, muscular frame, trying in vain to comfort him. The dark elf turned to them all pleadingly. "Please, he is so frightened. He is frightened that you will not love him anymore. Tell him that it isn't true."

Regis frowned at Catti-brie and nudged her sternly. "Tell him, Cat."

The auburn-haired woman looked around the room, her mouth agape, as if she might burst into tears. "I did it meself. I tried to pressure me Wulfgar into sayin' things he knew weren't true. He thought I loved him."

"Girl?" Bruenor stared at her in confusion. "What did ye do?"

She crossed her arms behind her back and scuffed her boot on the floor. She looked down, ashamed. "I made 'im get engaged to me. He wanted to. He thought I were tellin' the truth when I weren't. I were only lyin' because I was too scared to make meself like all the other village girls an' try to get a man the old fashioned way. I were scared."

"You what?" Wulfgar looked up at her, his face suddenly ashen. It had been one thing when he had been accusing her of manipulating him when he was angry, and hurt, but it was another thing to hear it from her lips. He suddenly looked devastated, shoulders slumping and a confused, broken look in his eyes, and it was because he _was_ devastated. "You hurt me."

Catti-brie shifted uncomfortably and refused to meet his eyes.

"Why?" Wulfgar's cheeks were now stained with slowly falling tears.

"Ye heard me say it. I was scared."

"You lied to me!" Wulfgar burst out, more tears quickly welling up in his eyes and dropping, straight down, onto the front of his tunic. He felt Drizzt hugging him about the waist, and didn't care. Nothing could make him hurt less right now.

Bruenor looked tired and old all of a sudden, drained and distraught by the news. "The fault is mine," he said, before either of them could go any further. He cut off their protests with a sharp gesture of his hand. "No," he insisted. "I pushed ye together, thinkin' in me senility it would make ye happy. It's this old dwarf's fault, and not either of your own. Go be happy, children. Yer not to blame. If ye can prove otherwise, I'll eat me axe."

"Bruenor," Drizzt said softly, his lavender eyes wide, "I didn't do enough to stop them. Or you, if that's how you want it to be said. I should have done something sooner, but I didn't. I was afraid that my jealousy was making me see things where there wasn't."

"Durned crazy elf." The dwarf king's voice was strained. "Ye didn't have a responsibility. Stop trying to make me feel better."

The elven ranger smiled. "But, Bruenor, I always have to make you feel better. It's my responsibility. That is what friends do, is it not?"

"You and yer crazy friendship talk. Friends're there because we need someone to drink beer with."

Drizzt tried to stifle his laughter at that, but didn't entirely succeed. He released Wulfgar, padded across the room on silent feet, and gave the protesting old dwarf a hug. "You're my favorite dwarf."

"Crazy…little…cracked-headed…" Bruenor spluttered. "Ye're makin' me look like a daisy-by-the-road."

Drizzt smiled mischievously. "Then there's one thing you can do, and only one, to make me let go." He batted his eyelashes innocently.

Bruenor scowled up at him. "That bein'?"

"Let me court Wulfgar," the dark elf said. He gave Bruenor a charming little puppy face.

"You… and me boy?" Bruenor looked at him incredulously, spluttering.

"I like him ever so much," Drizzt said, widening his lavender eyes further. "I promise I'll be good to him… Please?"

"I knew it," Catti-brie said. She scowled triumphantly at them all. "I told ye he said that thing that he said! Ye didn't believe me! I said it! I knew he had designs on me brother!"

"Doesn't it feel good to call me that again?" Wulfgar asked with exaggerated innocence, raising an eyebrow and smirking at her to cover up still-burning pains in his chest.

"Oh, aye." She gave him an impish grin. "Ye're too much of an oaf to be my husband, anyway. I want somebody thin and nimble, graceful, like a dancer, and a voice that can sing." She appraised him critically for a moment and decided on short order that her adopted brother definitely fell short.

Wulfgar supposed that getting all these feelings out in the open, like Drizzt said on the way over here, would be good for them all. Still, it would always hurt him a little, he thought. "Well, you can't have mine," he bantered back. "Drizzt's taken."

"I haven't decided any such thing yet," Bruenor grumbled.

"I'm a man," Wulfgar said, scowling. "I should be able to court whoever I please. It's women that need their father's permission."

"Oh?" Drizzt looked startled. He let go of Bruenor and playfully dusted the old dwarf off. "My apologies." The elf ranger gave Wulfgar a dazzling smile. "Then I guess we can just go. Come, Wulfgar." He nonchalantly started to walk towards the nearest hallway.

Wulfgar retorted, grinning, "I come when I please!"

Drizzt let out a sad sigh. "Ah, well." He continued on.

"I thought we were going to have breakfast," Wulfgar called.

"Let's catch some," Drizzt said. He wiggled, adjusting his green cloak contentedly. "I like mine better fresh, anyway."

Bruenor roared, "Stop insulting me food, elf!"

The ranger stuck his tongue out at the old dwarf.

Wulfgar decided it would be a good time to go, waved a casual, silent good-bye, and strode across the room to join Drizzt. _My new lover_, he thought wonderingly. They left arm in arm, headed for the woods.

"Well, I'm glad that all worked out," Regis said, crossing his arms behind his head contentedly. "Anyone hungry?" His plate had the remains of four eggs, ten pieces of toast, and three portions of steak on it.

"Rumblebelly," Bruenor muttered. That was all he needed to say.

"I still need my second breakfast," the halfling protested, blithely stealing fried bread from Catti-brie's plate.

"Hey!" she protested, stabbing the stolen sliced with her fork and stealing them back. "I'm never sitting next to you again."

Regis smiled at her cheekily.


End file.
